


Afraid

by JustClem



Series: Red Snow [7]
Category: RWBY
Genre: 2nd person POV, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bumblebee - Freeform, Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, POV Second Person, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, White Rose - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-06 09:02:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18385262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustClem/pseuds/JustClem
Summary: She keeps you tethered to the ground when you've flown too high to the sky. She reminds you to stay in reality, and strive to be better, to be your fullest, best self. She helps in a way no one's helped you before.Maybe that's why you're in love with her.~You're in love with Weiss Schnee, and you're afraid.





	Afraid

Sometimes you wonder how on Remnant you're able to know someone like her.

You're this average girl who barely passes the qualifications for the prestigious Beacon Academy and is constantly worrying about everything that's not important, and there she is, graceful and beautiful and full of hopes and dreams.

You feel like you should be jealous of her for being so perfect, but you're not.

"Hey, Rubes. Whatcha up to?"

You close the weapon's magazine and decide to entertain your sister, rolling onto your stomach and looking down. Yang has her hands on her hips, which usually means she knows you're thinking about something.

"Just wondering if I should upgrade Ember Celica."

The distraction works. Yang wrinkles her nose and lets go of her hips. "Ugh, why do you want to tinker with them? They're beautiful, just the way they are."

"You know, Yang," you hear Blake say, and without looking at her, you can picture what her face must be like; deadpan with a hint of a smile. "I would've been jealous if I didn't know you were talking about your weapon."

Yang smiles a toothy, dopey smile that makes her look stupid. It's a smile she has whenever she's with Blake or thinking about her. It's like the smile is reserved for Blake and Blake only.

You wonder if you have a smile reserved for her and her only.

"Whatever do you mean, Blake? They're not weapons. They're my sweethearts."

"I thought your sweetheart was your motorcycle."

Yang raises a finger and tilts her head down like a professor thinking about his philosophy. "Bumblebee is my baby. Ember and Celice are my sweethearts. There's a difference."

"Oh?" Blake's voice drips with enthusiasm and curiosity. "And what does that make me?"

You mentally block Yang's answer, then physically block the rest of their conversation with a big red headphones, returning to your magazine.

Yang and Blake make a nice couple. Everyone can tell they really love each other. And Blake's the only person in the world that can get Yang to study properly, so that's good. They're good for each other, made for each other, and they'll probably be together forever, grow up with each other, grow old together, and never be alone again.

Unlike you.

You crank up the volume up. Wicked guitar riffs and loud drums and singers screaming words that you can't understand but know are meaningful; they drown you and you try to pretend that it takes you away from the depressing thoughts of being alone forever and not being good enough.

For a moment, it works, but soon you see the door open and white and oops, the thoughts come back with a vengeance, crushing onto you like a truck, snapping you awake from bliss.

If anyone can be perfect and flawed at the same time, it would be her.

You see her looking at Yang and Blake, the disgust filling her features before she rolls her eyes and walks to her bed. Before she sits down, she looks up at you, and you feel like you're caught doing something you're not supposed to be doing.

She says something to you. It takes you an embarrassing three seconds to realise you need to pull down your headphones to be able to hear her voice.

"Have you studied for the test?"

You don't even know which test she's talking about. "Yep!"

"Really?"

She knows you haven't studied. You should probably admit defeat and ask for help. "Really."

You got a B- on the test.

For you, a C student, this is a miracle.

For her, the A+++ student (with a smiley face and a 'well done!'), this must be the most horrible thing to have ever existed in the face of Remnant.

"You should've told me you needed help."

You shrug. "Well, I mean…"

"Why didn't you tell me anything?"

Because you're afraid that if you get too close to her, you'll fall even further in love with her, and you can't handle that thought, that you, a nobody, wants to be with a perfection you can't ever grasp.

But that's not what you say.

That can never be what you say, not to her, even when it's the truth.

"I thought I could just wing it, you know. I mean, I did study..."

"Look at me."

You do. And she's frowning with lips pursed and arms crossed. You look away. Her eyes are burned into your head. You fear and love them, how they seem to see right through you and look at you like you're more than you are at the same time. You're still unsure if they remind you of the cloudy blue sky or a bolt of blue lighting.

You hear her sigh, and you want to shrink and disappear. "Ruby… I know you've been avoiding me."

You have. On purpose. "What? Pssh, what are you talking about? I haven't been avoiding you."

The whole time, you can't bring yourself to look at her. You know that if you do, you won't be able to lie. She knows it too. It's why she stares at you for one, two, five seconds longer, before standing up with a sharp, cold, "fine", then leaving you alone in the empty classroom.

You slump in your chair, bringing your hand to your head as you stare at the ceiling, groaning.

You know what it means whenever she retreats back to her frosty shell whenever someone hurts her. It means you've hurt her. The greater the pain, the icier she becomes.

If you were Yang, you'd say a long, hard, satisfying, "Fuck."

Instead, you settle with, "Dang it."

You know that the only way for you to apologize to her will be to tell her why you've been avoiding her. So you don't apologize at all.

You don't know who avoids who. You only know that everyone knows, even when they try to be respectful and hide that they know.

You know that they're surprised it's you she avoids. You know they all think you should be credited for melting the cold hard wall of the Ice Queen.

You know you never did anything. She was the one who decided to break the walls herself and step out and really be her best self. You didn't have anything to do with it. You just happened to be her partner, happened to be there when the magic happened.

You're sweating. Your body begs you to rest. You're still standing even though you should probably sit and take a drink and try to breathe deeply. Crescent Rose weighs you down, unbalances you, yet you still grip it with all of your strength.

"Yang sent you here?"

There's a pause. You can feel her bewilderment.

"How'd you know I was here?" Blake's voice, from behind you, asks. It echoes throughout the empty training ground. It's dark. It's early. Too early for anyone to be here. It's exactly why you're here.

You shrug, turning around, not surprised to see a shadowed figure of a woman with black hair, but by the slitted eyes that glow yellow.

You don't bother smiling. It's dark. She wouldn't be able to see you. You let your face adopt the emotion you feel. There's no use pretending in the dark.

"Who else would be here this early?"

You hear her chuckle a low chuckle that reminds you of a cat's rumble.

Her hand extends, and she's holding something out to you. You smile when you realise that it's a water bottle. You thank her, she dismisses your thanks, and minutes later, you find yourself sitting down on the floor next to her. Well, she's sitting down, you're inches away from sprawling down on the floor like a starfish.

"Ruby…"

"Blake…"

"You're not fooling anyone."

You look up. The ceiling's dark. Everything's dark. You like that it's dark because you don't really see anything. At the same time, you don't like it, because when you don't see anything, you see Weiss, and she's always beautiful.

"I'm fooling someone." And you're glad that someone is her.

"Don't be so sure."

Your heart pounds in anger. Blake sounded so sure. "Did you tell her anything?"

"Only what I know."

Your eye twitches and you sigh deeply. Blake is cool and all, but sometimes she's so vague her words don't even make sense. You're not in the mood to play with her enigmatic games.

You look at her, squinting to see past the black. "And what do you know?"

You see nothing but a faint outline of where her face and body are supposed to be and those shining eyes. For a moment, you understand why your sister fell in love with Blake. "That our brave team leader is afraid of the simplest of things."

You clench your fists, and unclench them. You hope you'll distract yourself by ghosting your fingers through the frame of your weapon in its scythe form. Touching Crescent Rose - the weapon that has saved your lives countless of times and, in a way, grants her the opportunity to attend Beacon and be where she is - always calms you down. You're horrified to find that you're not calm after skin meets metal.

"It's not simple."

"It is. You just don't want to believe that it's simple," she answers, a little too quickly, like she's been expecting you to say that. Maybe she has. Blake is awesome like that. And dangerous. You're glad she's an ally and a dear friend, not someone else. "I was afraid too, with Yang and, well…" She lets out a chuckle. You see her tilting her head down, looking at her thigh. She runs a hand through her curly hair, then twirls a lock of that hair. "But then she asked me out, and once I realized that both of us felt the same way towards each other, I stopped being afraid."

You know it wasn't that simple. You know nothing is ever simple.

"Yang wasn't afraid."

"Hm?"

You're back on looking at the ceiling and into nothingness. "If she asked you out, then she must be fearless."

"No." The 'no' was rather sharp-spoken. Your body tenses when hearing it. You don't look at Blake. You don't see the point. You can't really see her. You opted to close your eyes and listen. "It was one of the scariest moments in her life. It was scary for both of us. She was afraid, Ruby. She still is, sometimes. We all are. But we shouldn't avoid people just because we're afraid of what we feel."

"I'm not afraid."

And with that, Blake leaves you alone, laying down on the floor, in the dark, large, echoey room.

It takes you three minutes to realise that Blake has night vision. Meaning she's been seeing your face - your pained, depressed, miserable face - all this time while you were stuck in the dark trying to figure out where her nose and mouth were.

She saw through your lies, and you saw through nothing, stuck in the dark.

You think about Blake's words.

You don't agree with her words on being afraid. There's no way Yang's afraid. She's the definition of bravery. Heck, being too brave has been what got her into trouble, most of the time.

You're not afraid too. You're just cautious.

You agree with Blake on one thing; this - whatever's going on with you and her - has to stop. You have to stop being cautious, or else the whole team will suffer because of your childishness. You have to stop being a kid. You're a team leader now. And you're her partner.

You wait until she's alone before you decide to talk to her.

You find yourself standing on the door, in your school uniform, anxious. She's sitting on the desk, and she's been reading until you announce your arrival with a loud slam of the door.

"Don't you have one more class?"

You do. You're willing to skip them for her. You're willing to do many things for her. You cut to the chase by saying, "Weiss. I'm sorry. I should've told you-"

"No, no. You weren't ready to tell me-"

"But I could've told you something-"

"I pushed you." You freeze. She stands up from her chair and faces you. Her face is so open, so honest. She's changed so much. "Ruby, I'm sorry. It was my fault. I just wanted to help you the way you helped me."

You say nothing, wondering why she wants to help you. You don't need help. You're doing fine on your own. Why does she think you need help?

"It's about what you're hiding from me," she continues, as if reading your mind. She reaches out to you, and her fingers go rigid, and she looks away. You remember a time where she was unexpressive and distant with everyone. It feels so far away. It feels like it's all a dream. You know it's not. "I know it has to do with me. I don't know what I've done wrong-"

"Nothing," you object, closing the distance, pressing your hands on her shoulders. You make sure your grip is soft. "Weiss, it's me, not you. I'm dealing with some complicated stuff-"

"Then let me help you."

"You _are_ helping me."

And she is, in a way.

She makes you think all sorts of things you've never thought before. She makes you want things you've never wanted before.

But she keeps you tethered to the ground when you've flown too high to the sky. She reminds you to stay in reality, and strive to be better, to be your fullest, best self. She helps in a way no one's helped you before.

Maybe that's why you're in love with her.

"I'm glad."

She touches your hand, the tip of her fingers meeting your rough, calloused knuckles. You want to move away from her touch. She shouldn't touch you. She's too perfect to touch you.

She smiles, and you don't want to do anything but stare at her. You love the dimple she has whenever she smile. You love how her eyes squint when she smiles. You love how special her smile is.

She leans forward. Your lips feel something soft and nice, and it feels nothing. You're not sure what's happened. You're sure you don't want to know what's happened.

Her hands slide down around your arm, coaxing you to let go of her shoulders and grab her hands instead.

"Are we okay, Ruby?"

You've never seen her in such a vulnerable light before.

"We are."

And things are different.

She's more affectionate with you. She smiles at you more. She touches you more. Little touches; a pat on your back, a hold to your hand, a bump to your shoulder.

It drives you insane.

You love it. You hate that you love it. You can't stop yourself from loving it, just as you can't stop yourself from obsessing over weapons and eating that last cookie.

It gets worse when you two are alone.

You're on a mission to exterminate Grimms in the forest near a village. There are a few Grimm left. They escaped from the brutality and you and your team didn't have the chance to chase after them. Knowing that things aren't quite over yet, you made the decision to camp out, since the road to the village will take hours and your team is exhausted from battling Grimm.

It's night. You're on watch duty. You're sitting on a large branch. The cricket sounds are as soothing as the sound of your team's deep, heavy breathing (and Yang's snoring.)

You look up. The sky is painted with stars. You compare the sky to a person's face, and the stars with freckles. You smile at the comparison.

"What are you thinking about?"

You turn your head to the direction of her voice and regret the decision.

She's without her jacket. You realize that this is the first time you've seen her without her jacket. Her skin seems to shine in the campfire light. Her eyes are tinted with a yellow glow, and you think; _wowzer._

Yang and Blake are asleep. You are alone with her. It's night. Your guard is down. She's beautiful. You're afraid.

"Let me guess." A smile. "Cookies?"

Far from it, actually. "You got me," you say with a chuckle.

She stands there, shifting her weight, hugging her arms. You pat the empty spot next to you. It's all the invitation she needs.

Her thigh meets yours. You force your eyes to look anywhere but her. You know she's looking at you, and you secretly hope she'll get tired of seeing your old, boring face and finally set her eyes on things more important.

She doesn't.

You freeze when soft fingers hover over your cheek. Your heart aches at how gentle the touch is, like how you'd touch the rarest, most expensive Dust or an old Relic. It travels down to your chin, then it tilts it, and you find yourself facing her.

She leans towards you. You get flashes of memories, of what's happened, of what you didn't believe has happened. You jump away, standing up, holding your hands to her, breathing heavily.

"Ruby?"

"I- I'm sorry. Weiss- I- I can't- I just can't." You stumble over your words just as you stumble over the branches and dirt and rocks underneath you.

She looks concerned, standing up. You hate how worried she is. You hate that she's worried about you. You, of all people. You, the nobody.

You're running.

You're afraid. You're confused. You're alone.

She chases after you.

It's dangerous to be out here alone in the dark without a weapon. You can't stop.

You stop involuntarily when you see those red, glowing eyes and black fur and bony white mask covering a monstrous face.

You stumble. You fall. You gasp for air, and gasp again when you find that air will not invite itself into your lungs. Your eyes are hot with tears. Everything's dark and spinning.

You hear her voice.

You know you should try to run from it. You find yourself reaching out to it.

"Ruby, you dork! What were you thinking!?" You weren't. You were acting out of instinct. You find that your hand travels up to touch her cheek. Maybe you still are acting out of instinct. Weiss doesn't seem to notice your shaking hand or the contact. All she seems to care is you. "Dust, I was so, so afraid…"

"Me too."

You never meant to say that. It felt so good to say it, though, to get it out in the open, and to let the tears fall.

"You're going to be okay, Ruby. I promise you. You're going to be okay."

You smile a painful smile. Weiss looks so close but is so far away.

"I'm afraid of you."

Gosh, it feels good to say that.

"What?"

You almost chuckle. Weiss sounds so confused.

"I'm in love with you, Weiss," you say with a shrug and a smile that might've looked more like a wince. You're surprised that you said it with the same tone you'd use when telling the time or the weather or how good your meal was. "And I'm afraid because… I'm just me, and you're you."

You're Ruby Rose and she's the perfection.

You're the nobody and she's Weiss Schnee.

You two can never be Ruby Rose and Weiss Schnee.

You two can only be the nobody and the perfection.

"You're not just you, Ruby. You're never just anything. You're… Ruby." A pause, and a voice spoken so softly it shocks you. "You saved me."

"I didn't," you say as you shake your head, wincing when the action causes a migraine to shoot up. "Why does everybody keep saying that?"

"You did."

"No. I just happened to be there, Weiss." You clench your teeth and try to convey that it _is_ the truth and Weiss should _listen_. "It was you who did everything."

Weiss locks her eyes with yours. "You saved me by being there. You were there when you could've left."

Oh. You've never thought of it that way before.

She's touching your cheek. This is when you start to wonder where you are. You ask her that exact question and she rolls her eyes. "Where do you think?"

"... The afterlife?"

"Dolt."

And for a moment, it's just you and Weiss, alone together. Your head is on her lap. A layer of sweat covers her face. You should probably get help. She's so beautiful, she can't be real.

You're content.

Your content disappears when she leans down.

"No." She listens to you and leans back up. She doesn't want to push you, but you know she's hurt by your refusal, so you say, "I'm not good enough for you."

"Ruby Rose. You are a prodigy who is accepted at Beacon at fifteen years old and you're able to push your team to be one of the best Huntresses in Remnant. You are the only person good enough for me."

And just like that, Weiss erases every doubt, every self-conscious thoughts that has ever plagued your mind. No, it's more like she beats them up, freezes them with Myneaster, then unfreezes them only to throw them using her Glyphs.

She is amazing.

And you two are kissing.

You don't just freeze and take it all in, this time. You respond. You give. You take and give. She takes and give. It's wonderful. You feel so stupid now, for thinking you're not good enough, for thinking you don't deserve her, for thinking she should be with anyone else but you.

You two pull away immediately. Your head is reeling with excitement and the mere thought that _wow, I actually kissed back. Well done, me!_

"Are you afraid, now?"

The playfulness in her tone makes you smile.

"Yup," you answer, popping the 'p'. "But I still want you, so…"

So, you pull her into another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually one of my finer works. I'm proud of it and the emotion it carries despite the lack of character-environment interaction (something I'm still working on). Like, DAMN, the words I produce, sometimes are so... WOWZER.
> 
> Also, support me on Patreon with the username ClementineDavidson :3 It'll be tots helpful!


End file.
